


Leather and Blood

by HowardR



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Accidental Bonding, Alternate Universe - Twins, Bedtime Stories, Chara disagrees but whatevs, Denial, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, Everyone Needs A Hug, Eyes, F/M, Falling In Love, Female Chara (Undertale), Female Frisk (Undertale), Frisk is nominated best girl award 2020, Green Eyes, Home, I Tried, It's Not Paranoia If They're Really Out To Get You, Knifeplay, POV Alternating, POV First Person, POV Second Person, Paranoia, Protective Chara (Undertale), Protective Siblings, Selectively Mute Frisk (Undertale), Self-Denial, Slow Burn, Tags Are Fun, Teenage Asriel Dreemurr, Teenage Chara (Undertale), Twins, and when I say 'play' I may or may not mean in a sexual fashion, but like serious, even Chara no matter how much she denies it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:47:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23799511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HowardR/pseuds/HowardR
Summary: The Whendover twins, Frisk and Chara, are inseparable.And so, it was no wonder that they fell into the underground together.
Relationships: Chara & Frisk (Undertale), eventual Chara/Asriel
Comments: 14
Kudos: 42





	1. Prologue: Didn't Take Much

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frisk is the nicest child around.
> 
> Chara, on the other hand...
> 
> ...Falling into a subterranean cave didn't help, either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit to the Tobster.

Really, it wasn’t really up to debate on whose fault it was.

Chara could argue that it  _ was up to debate, thank you very much _ all she wanted. There  _ was _ no debate. At least, not one that had an outcome that wasn’t predetermined.

Frisk was the most polite, timid, simple-minded child you could ever know. When they first went to school, and learned of history and mathematics and mock-fights, the teachers had thought that they had a real keeper on their hands with Frisk.

She didn’t talk much, if at all. She seemed a bit lonely, but she always had that sister of her’s to fall back on. She soaked up knowledge like a sponge, but didn’t resent the teachers for going at such a slow pace, like Chara did. She was kind, timid, and scholarly - really, the perfect student. Someone who you could focus on if you really wanted someone to learn all you could teach, but who could be safely ignored if you wanted to focus on the slower kids. Frisk helped kids pick up their dropped things, and, though she didn’t smile, and more then a few of the teachers suspected a terrible home background, she was the most open-hearted, sensitive child to come through the school in a long time.

Everyone had only talked about how great Frisk was.

For the first day.

The kids who didn’t already have a crush on her thought she was accommodating and kind, and everyone at the school either found themselves growing fond of her from the first visit or safely ignoring her.

Frisk was easy to feel fond about. She was also easy to ignore.

She blended in.

But then, Chara started doing her thing.

All the teachers  _ hated _ Chara. Chara, who wouldn’t even sit in her desk if told to. Chara, who would slap a kid silly for looking at her funny. Chara, who even the big kids didn’t bully.

Chara, with those red, red eyes.

Chara thought everything, including the other kids and assignments, was below her. She lounged easily, and waved her hand imperiously at the kids trying to pass out assignments. She didn’t do the work unless she deemed it interesting, and the other kids found that they were  _ lucky _ to be ignored if they tried to talk to Chara.

Well… maybe Chara didn’t think  _ everything _ was below her.

And, really, that might have been the biggest problem.

Because people soon learned that the Whendover twins were  _ inseparable. _

People all thought that Frisk was just the most sweet-hearted thing you could ever meet. She was entirely silent, and knew sign language like… well, like the back of her hand. But, other then that, she was absolutely perfect.

Unless you insulted her sister.

The first time that someone had talked about Chara being an ‘insufferable little brat,’ they had quickly learned that Frisk, despite her small stature and kind demeanor, could throw one  _ hell _ of a punch.

That was the first time that Frisk had gone to the office.

And, really, it had only gone downhill from there.

Soon enough, nobody liked Frisk anymore. Because  _ everyone _ hated Chara - and, since hating Chara was an unforgivable offense to Frisk, she soon found herself giving the cold shoulder to everyone who didn’t have a black eye from speaking a  _ touch _ too loudly at lunch about Chara Whendover’s many insufferable escapades.

They were inseparable. And so, when Chara separate herself from her classmates, Frisk was dragged into isolation with her, whether Chara knew what she was doing or not.

And, as a side note, she didn’t.

Chara was bad at thinking through consequences like that.

And so, soon enough, even the teachers began to dislike Frisk. Frisk, who would always go along with Chara’s delinquent escapades and even managed to mastermind some of her sister’s craziest ideas. Frisk, who would terrorize the school and the teachers any day if it meant that Chara would be smiling by dusk. Frisk, who wouldn’t do an assignment if Chara told her not to.

And so, Frisk was alone but for her sister.

And so was Chara.

So, at the end of the day, it didn’t take much to convince Frisk to trot up to the top of the mountain with her. They went on adventures all the time - who cares about the rumors? Don’t you want to get out of the house?

Away from Mom and Dad?

That had done it.

And they had fallen. When Frisk woke up, there was chloroform in her nostrils, a stick in her hand giving her splinters already, stone dust sprinkled over her and the warm form of her sister laying prone next to her.

  
And she knew  _ exactly _ whose fault it was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay - so. I try not to steal whenever possible, and even taking inspiration from another fanfic is something I try to avoid. But, despite that, I just loved this idea to the bottom of my cold, black, grinch-ian heart - so I totally stole it.
> 
> I'm putting a bit of a spin on it, though, so hopefully that turns out well.
> 
> But, despite that, I still dedicate this fic to and give all the credit for the idea to a chap (or lass) by the name of KasuraRave on fanfiction.net. Check out her (or his) fanfic here: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11750768/1/Twin-Troubles 
> 
> Don't hate me too much, please!
> 
> -Howard R.
> 
> P. S: I spelled subterranean right first try! Not super impressive or anything, but I'm quite proud of myself, thank you.


	2. Four Taps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They wake up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit to Tobias.

When I woke up, the world spun.

For a moment, my center, my axis of rotation, was as insubstantial as fog. The world was a cloud around me, in the middle of a storm - crackles of color and fields of spotty grey. A headache rampaged in my skull, stomping and stabbing and throwing a tantrum, and I felt something unnaturally hot curled around my leg.

And then, the cloud cleared. The storm stopped raging. And the field of black spots and grey static gave way to a dark, mossy grotto, with a bed of golden flowers in the middle.

And that was when the pain hit me.

Like a thousand hot knives piercing my leg and slowly twisting. Like a long, thick snake had sunk its claws into my skin and was injecting venom as hot as magma into my bloodstream. The pain of a thousand street fights, and a thousand scratches from exploring. A thousand slaps from Mom’s hand, and a thousand pebbles bouncing off my skin when a bike skidded strongly against the dirt in front of me.

But I simply ignored it.

The belt was nearly as bad anyway.

I sat up in a single, swift motion, and bit my tongue.  _ Hard. _ I felt the warm gush of blood in my mouth, and the taste of rusted metal burned around my teeth. I felt a piece of my tongue come off, and I spit it out, ignoring the sensation of a clamp pressing down where I had just bitten and causing my tongue to swell.

At least it stopped most of the pain that rushed from my leg. My tongue had been in tatters for years, anyway.

I looked down, assessing the damage with a practiced eye. My leg was clearly damaged quite heavily - at least a hairline fracture, maybe even a full on break, though it was hard to tell with my pant leg twisted as it was. I reached forward, and ran a single finger up my leg, assessing the sensations of combined pain and texture beneath my finger.

Yep. Definitely broken.

I let out a long breath, and reached forward. I grabbed a clump of flowers and stuffed them in my mouth, ignoring the rush of pain from my tongue and the horrible combined taste of dirt and something almost… soapy. I prepped my jaw, and gingerly but firmly grabbed my leg.

_ Three… two… one! _

I bit down, right as I wrenched my leg back into place.

And there was pure agony for only the shortest moment before the world went black again.

* * *

You opened your bleary eyes, blinking away the sleep and already sniffing experimentally.

It smelled like flowers.

That was a bad sign.

You sat up, and stared at your surroundings. The room was a mossy cave, damp air thick around you. You could still see the cave stretching up above you and letting in a single lone pillar of sunlight, and the formations of stalactites were white and shiny.

_ Chara. _

You glanced around you apprehensively, already feeling a small coil of tension curling in your stomach. You  _ always _ knew where Chara was - the last time she had gone missing -

You cut that thought off, and let out a breath you hadn’t known you were holding when you spotted the prone form of your sister lying next to you. You reached a single, steady hand forward, and gently stroked her hair out of her face.

You noted a trickle of blood coming out of her mouth, and grimaced. She really needed to stop using that method of stopping the pain that came with - well, with anything.

And you reached forward, and grimaced as you pulled a bunch of flowers out of her mouth, coated in thick, green plant blood and saliva.

You tossed it aside with a scowl, and reached a hand to shake Chara awake, stick still firmly in your palm. Until -

“I think it came from over here…”

Your head darted up, eyes wide, and your hand instinctively clenched the stick in your palm.

_ Dammit. _

“Oh!”

Your eyes instantly focused on the humanoid form standing in the doorway.

Emphasis on human _ oid. _ Not human.

The ears, the small, barely noticeable horns, and just something about that posture…

_...That’s a monster. _

“...You’ve fallen down, haven’t you?”

You stared across as him, silent and defencive. You stood shakily, and got into a defencive position, legs spread, over the passed out form of your sister.

_ You won’t hurt her. _

“...Um… you  _ do _ understand me, right?”

You hesitated before nodding slowly, though, to accompany the movement, your posture became even more defencive, hunched and practically  _ shivering _ with tension.

“...Okay. Um, my name’s Asriel. Prince Asriel Dreemurr.”

You didn’t respond. Instead, you swept your eyes over his form, once, before deciding that he didn’t pose a threat - at least, not for the moment. You turned, and shook Chara firmly.

Once. Just once. She always slept on a hair trigger, at least when it came to contact. And, indeed, Chara instantly woke, eyes snapping open and finding your’s without a thought.

You tapped the ground slowly.

Four times.

Chara’s eyes flashed slightly, but she still grinned a smug grin. You scowled at her, though you were almost completely sure that there was fondness etched into your face  _ somewhere, _ ruining the effect.

That always happened somehow.

“Where are we?” Chara whispered. You simply signed quickly in response.

_ Underground monster realm. _

Chara froze. And then, almost like she was confirming, she tapped the ground four times with a raised eyebrow.

You simply nodded.

Chara lifted one of her arms, and you obliged, already aware that arguing about Chara’s health would do more harm then good. You looped an arm around her shoulders, and heaved her up, your sister instinctively shifting her weight to one leg.

So, a broken leg, then. Or maybe something a bit less bad - a sprained ankle or something. They would need to get that fixed up.

Though, knowing Chara, if it  _ was _ broken, she’d already set it perfectly.

Chara’s eye swept over the cave, taking in all the details, before focusing on the self-proclaimed ‘Asriel’. She smiled her most charming smile, and you found that even your heart melted just a touch, even though you knew that it was just a perfect mask - and those eyes were too clearly patronizing and annoyed for you to buy the act anyway.

“Hello. My name is -”

Chara gave only the shortest glance at you, before you inclined your head just a touch. There wasn’t even a hitch in the inflection as she smoothly picked up the sentence again.

“Chara, and this is Frisk. I’m afraid I didn’t catch your name?” She smiled a sheepish (and incredibly fake) smile. “I was kinda passed out.”

“Asriel.” The kid answered, giddiness beginning to enter his face. “Asriel Dreemurr. Are you two… humans?”

Chara smiled softly, and you matched the smile - albeit, far more genuine.

“Yes, we are. I assume you’re a monster?”

“Oh, yeah. Well, I mean,” he snorted, “obviously.” And then, his eyes focused in on Chara’s leg - the one that was lifted from the ground and curled up slightly.

“Are you hurt? Mom can heal you up, if you let her.”

* * *

_ Mom. _

I felt the almost irresistible urge to scowl at the kid, especially as I noticed Frisk’s face go carefully blank. I felt the scowl begin to twist my face, removing any cuteness it had certainly had when I had been forcing those smiles that only Frisk could ever tell were fake.

_ Mom. _

_ Their _ mom was someone who I had been forced to fake smile at more then once. She wanted so badly to be good, but - she just  _ wasn’t. _ Truth was, she had left her daughters in the care of someone else - and, really, it was almost worse then abandoning them, because she was still  _ there. _ Just not there  _ for them. _

If I was being honest - something I very rarely was unless I was talking to Frisk - the fact that she tried to convince herself she was a good person despite what she had done almost made me more nauseous then what she had done in the first place.

And, really, it wasn’t even  _ me _ that made me hate Mom so much. If it had just been me, I probably would have tried to commit suicide more then a few years ago.

That she had done that to  _ Frisk _ , however?

Unforgivable.

She would  _ pay. _ Whether Frisk approved or not - she would writhe in agony. She would feel three times what she had done to Frisk, and she would have to stare into her daughter’s eyes and know that she had caused this as she did.

_ No, _ I wouldn’t  _ kill _ her.

Probably.

But I had a notebook, stored in a loose floorboard back home, filled with everything they had ever done to Frisk.

And Mom  _ and _ Dad would know what it had felt like. Three times over.

And if they happened to die… then I guess they deserved to die.

But, just as the scowl was about to mar my face, I felt Frisk gently squeeze my shoulder. Those warm, shiny brown eyes were still a  _ touch _ too flat, the smile a  _ touch _ too strained, but, despite that, I felt an alien calm wash over me.

And so, I was able to force another smile on my face.

“That sounds perfect, Asriel.”

And Asriel grinned as I said with false cheer,

“Lead the way!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um - just a short little update for you. Nothing fancy (b-baka).
> 
> Erm... yeah! I don't really have much more to say, other then to give me those comments and thoughts, criticism, etc.
> 
> -Howard R.


	3. Not Healing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chara might be a bit paranoid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit to Tony Canine

I leaned heavily on Frisk as we walked - well, half-walked, half-shambled - down the mossy, misty corridor. The pillar of light faded into the distance as we walked into the next room - really, just a slightly smaller version of the room we had just been it with less flowers - and stepped carefully through another doorway.

"It, err, should take quite a bit," Asriel muttered. "I'm sorry, I wish it were an easier trip..."

"It's fine," I answered, despite the fact that his voice was so _grating._ Frisk glanced meaningfully at the goat, and I said, "and Frisk doesn't mind either."

As a result, the slump in Asriel's posture vanished, and he turned around with a giddy grin on his furry face. I repressed the urge to scowl at him.

"So, you can't talk? How's that work?" He went on, barely even leaving Frisk time to nod. "I mean, you have a mouth - at least, it looks like you do - so why can't you talk?"

I felt the familiar rush of bitterness, and glanced meaningfully at Frisk. She didn't meet my eye.

"Humans have these... tubes, that sound comes out of. Frisk's tubes were damaged, but her mouth wasn't, so she still has a mouth but she can't talk."

Asriel stared at me blankly. He didn't even furrow his brow to show his confusion - just stared.

"Okay." He said blankly. I nearly scowled at him, but was stopped by Frisk suddenly freezing in her shambling walk forward.

I glanced to what Frisk was staring at, her blank face hiding frustration that I could see bubbling below the surface.

_Damn. Of course these ruins have stairs._

Frisk hesitated.

"No." I said instantly, making Asriel glance over. "You are _not_ carrying me up those stairs. We're both tired, and wounded, and you are in no state to carry anything - and I have no particular desire to be dropped."

That last part was more for Asriel's benefit then anything else. Frisk would sprain something before she dropped me, but I wouldn't have her straining herself.

Frisk lifted her hand from my shoulder to sign,

_Then how do we get up?_

"What're you doing with your hands? Magic?" Asriel asked, voice giddy and cheerful and so _annoying._ But, once again, Frisk's hand on my shoulder and eyes on my face kept me from scowling at him.

"No. Because Frisk can't talk, she communicates using her hands instead."

Asriel's face blanked again for only a moment before lighting up with comprehension. "Oh! Like Doctor Gaster!"

"Who?"

My voice was a bit too flat and disinterested to be polite, and Frisk instantly sent me a _look,_ but Asriel didn't seem to notice.

"The royal scientist. He works with Dad."

At, again, the casual, cheerful reference to a parent, I finally let loose a scowl - though, luckily, Asriel was staring up at the stairs.

I wondered if he had an actually contemplative look, or just that same blank one.

"Well, if you weren't doing magic, how do we get up these stairs?"

"Hold on."

I looked down, and the ground faded. I fell into my head, and everything vanished but the problem at hand.

I thought.

At least, until my thoughtful state was ruined by seeing Frisk grin out of the corner of my eye. I looked up and Scowled at her, but she didn't seem to notice as she signed,

_Your thinking face looks ridiculous._

I felt warm, but scowled anyway. At least, until she signed,

_And plus, I already know what to do._

"What, then?" I asked, voice without even hidden annoyance for the first time. Asriel glanced over as Frisk signed,

_We just get goat child to go get goat mother on his own. If she really can heal you, then you can walk up the stairs on your own._

My mouth fell open for only the shortest second before I closed it with an audible _click._

"Why the hell didn't I think of that?"

I heard Asriel choke off a gasp in the distance, but I didn't really question it as Frisk smiled. It was soft, barely more then a tick, but it seemed to light up her whole face.

_She really is beautiful._

And she signed,

_Because you never think about how other people can help us._

I scowled.

_Well,_ I thought, _can you blame me?_

_Ask why goat child gasped,_ she signed. I turned around, losing the scowl and slipping on a mask with enough speed to worry anyone who didn't know me.

"Frisk wants to know why you gasped."

"You... nothing. No reason."

I furrowed my brow, but dropped it as he went on,

"So Frisk thought of something?"

"Yeah." I answered, without the trace of a scowl on my face that usually came with his cheerful questions.

After all, Frisk deserved some adulation occasionally - though I never gave her enough.

"She said to bring your... _Mom_ here on your own, and bring her back so she can heal me and I can walk up."

Asriel nodded. "Sounds like a plan."

He waved cheerily as he left.

"Try not to get too bored!"

There was silence in his wake.

_I like him._ Frisk signed.

"Of _course_ you do," I muttered, pulling Frisk towards where the staircases diverged to sit on a pile of leaves.

As Frisk helped me sit, I scowled at the feeling of defencelessness. I tried, though, to focus on the sensation of Frisk's mothering hands as she helped me settle.

And, when we were finally propped against the stairs, one of Frisk's arms around my shoulder, I finally found a bit of relaxation.

"So," I said, voice easy and casual for the second time since they had fallen, "I must confess, I've forgotten. How did we fall in the first place?"

And, suddenly, Frisk scowled.

_This is all your fault, Red,_ she signed. _Goats and grottos, all on you._

"What? Just because I wanted to climb the mountain doesn't mean this is my fault!..."

And thus began a decade long argument.

* * *

"Alright, how long can it possibly take to get your Mom when you're family lives in a cave, for Christ's sake?"

You glance to your left, shaking away the beginnings of sleepiness. You and Chara had been arguing for quite a while, and the adrenaline rush and crash of the fall itself led to your eyes naturally beginning to droop, and the warm, dark blanket of unconsciousness had just been draping over you. But it seemed that Chara would never grow weary in a place as unfamiliar as this one.

_Even though her body was so warm, and you were so, so tired..._

And so, you simply shook off the weariness pulling at your eyelids, and signed carefully,

_He said it would be a long journey. Be patient._

Chara, of course, merely scowled at this justification. 

"I bet he's going to get reinforcements right now," she muttered, eyes averted and half-lidded. "You've always been too trusting, Frisk."

 _And you've always been too paranoid, Red,_ you respond, smiling a soft smile. And Chara seemingly can't resist giving the smallest, faintest smile in return.

And her voice comes back to you, crisp and clear though with just that tiniest hint of something not quite sheepish,

_"You oughtta smile more, Frisk."_

Chara, as usual, losses the smile fairly quickly and rises to the bait. "I'd like to see you complaining when I save your life from one of these... things.

You simply give her a _look_.

...

She cracks first.

"What? What is it that makes that look-worthy?"

You pause, trying to think of how to put it. Then, you sign,

_Hating these people for being monsters is the same as hating me for being mute._

Chara stops being willing to meet your gaze. She still regroups quickly, though, as in any argument.

"Difference is, mute people didn't mass slaughter non-mutes in a massive war less then fifty years ago."

You simply sign,

_History is written by the victors._

That shuts Chara up, though you can feel her scowl playing across your spine from where you're turned.

You know, as well as she does, that that's her favourite phrase.

A few moments pass.

It's oddly peaceful, considering that it's a subterranean grotto. There are leaves beneath you and Chara, and the crinkling of them, instead of sounding like the tearing, screeching sound it normally seems like, seems to almost sound like tiny, distant, whispering laughs - maybe the echoes of the children that explored this place once, giddy and drunk on wanderlust.

There seems to be a faint breeze coming from nowhere, and it smells like something minty.

After a moment, Chara slowly leans against you, resting her head on your shoulder. You put your hands atop her head and hold her there, running your fingers through her hair.

She shivers. You know she likes that.

"You'll wake me up when they come back," she mutters, eyes already closing.

You can't even respond before she's drifted off to sleep. You smile down at her, and continue to card your fingers though her hair.

And wait.

* * *

Toriel glanced up at the sound of pounding feet, completely accustomed to it. She chanted tiredly down the hall, "Wipe your feet, Asriel, we're not slobs!" before returning to her book, already aware that her order was likely to be ignored.

"Mom! Mom!"

She glanced back up at that, though, and finally tore her world away from the book in her lap. She got the usual feeling of everything seeming duller suddenly, but ignored it in favor of her son, who was now skidding into the living room.

"Mom! There are two humans down in the ruins, they fell!"

She stood swiftly, looking down at Asriel with shock.

"Really? A human?"

"Two!" Asriel insisted.

She grimaced.

"Asriel, if you are playing a trick again-"

_He really ought to get over those, he's nearly twelve..._

"No, really, Mom! One of them is injured, too - well, I mean, both of them are, but one has an injury that I think is serious, the other one had to carry them-"

"And you left them in the ruins undefended?!" She screeched. "Asriel, you know what some monsters would do to get a human soul, let alone two-"

She had already reached the door by the time she finished, and was rushing out on light feet as she said sharply,

"Tell your father I'm heading out. Don't explain why, and for wind and fire's sake, _stay_ _put_!"

"No."

Toriel stopped, and turned around. Her son was standing in the doorway, back straight.

"No, I'm going with you. I found the humans, they're my responsibility, and if you go alone they have no reason to trust you. I can already tell they're very protective of one another, and incredibly wary of this new world - if you go alone, you'll probably have to incapacitate them to heal them, and then they'll probably never trust you again."

She stared at her son, the constant light breeze hot and stale from Hotland.

...

"Fine."

She turned and continued walking.

"Keep up."

* * *

I shook off the hot, uncomfortable, amber-like embrace of sleep, and looked up. Well, _glanced_ up - I was unwilling to raise my head from the loving embrace of Frisk's arms, and that positively _sinful_ thing she was doing with her hands.

_And the way those nails gently raked against my scalp just right..._

But, to my internal dismay and external disinterest, Frisk stopped carding her fingers through my hair almost immediately; though she kept her hands against my head, pressing me against her skin.

Which, honestly, was fine by me - though her scratchy jumper was irritating.

 _They're_ _back_ , Frisk signed. It was harder to read those signs when they were so close to my face and I was on the wrong end, but I managed.

"I noticed." I responded, voice sharp and flat with sardonic sarcasm.

The pattering but surprisingly light sound of two quick pairs of feet floated down the corridor. I rested my hand on the butt of my worn dagger, mostly hidden by Frisk's body and the pool of leaves I was sat in.

I tensed.

And, around the staircase, came a pair of goats, and I relaxed slightly.

_It seems goat boy kept his word._

Frisk turned to me just as they rounded the corridor and grinned a smug grin. I wrinkled my nose, and, in a fit of peak maturity, stuck my nose out at her, which made her giggle.

I felt warm.

And the moment was broken as I was forced to look at the intruders on the scene.

On the left - at least, _my_ left - was the goat child, sweeping quickly around the corner and sighing in relief when he saw them. And, coming around after him, was his mother.

She was quite a bit taller then Asriel - and, as a side effect, much more intimidating. She would have towered over them at standing height, in the same way she towered over Asriel, but at sitting height, she did more then that. She _loomed_ over them, like a stormcloud on their happy sunny day. She was at least nine feet tall, maybe taller, and there were fangs poking out of her mouth. I didn't see any horns on top of her head, but I could barely see the top of her head anyway, so I wasn't surprised.

The woman gasped when she saw them, and began to step forward. Frisk cringed back, one hand moving away from my head to grip at a stick on her right, and I subtly unsheathed my dagger.

My eyes were flinty.

Instantly, the woman froze, wide-eyed and halfway through a step. She righted her posture, and took in a breath to speak - deciding to direct her reassurances at Frisk.

I wasn't sure if that was because she knew Frisk would be more receptive, or because she only noticed Frisk's cringe and not my knife, glinting among the leaves.

I assumed it was the former. Always best to assume your enemy was perceptive and be wrong, then to assume they weren't and be wrong.

"I'm sorry, my child. I did not mean to frighten you."

 _She_ _isn't_ _your_ _child_ , I thought. Even my _thoughts_ sounded sharp. _She's my_ _child_.

The woman got on one knee, and looked us both in the eye in turn. When she looked me in the eye, I grinned at her.

I hoped my grin conveyed everything that Frisk would give me the _look_ for saying aloud.

She averted her eyes quickly.

"My name is Toriel. Are you two the humans my son told me about?"

"Obviously." I answered. Frisk glared at me, and I made an effort to make my voice less disrespectful. "Ma'am."

"Oh, please, no need for that. Call me Toriel."

I could see Frisk's eyes soften slightly. I pinched her, and sent her a look that I hoped conveyed my lack of respect for her ease in trusting this woman.

She looked down at my leg, and I tensed.

"You are injured, my child. Do you mind if I heal you?"

Frisk glanced at me at the same time I glanced at her. Her eyes conveyed a clear message, despite her insistence on us not showing these creatures prejudice.

_Your choice._

I hesitated.

"Under one condition."

"Name it." Toriel answered instantly.

"If I need assistance at any point after this, Frisk does it. You don't even request to do it."

Toriel glanced at Frisk, eyes conveying nothing. I had to admit, the woman had a good mask - much better then her son, anyway.

Not that that was exactly resounding praise.

"If that is okay with Frisk," she answered. And I was proud to see that I didn't even have to get angry, because Frisk's eyes instantly went dead flat - an obvious giveaway that she was hiding rage.

 _Tell_ _her_ _I_ _approve,_ she signed. Her movements were slightly jerkier than normal, giving off the impression that her handwriting was bad in signing form.

"She approves." I answered, voice dead of all emotion.

"Is that the case, Frisk?"

Frisk, eyes still retaining the iron glare of flat walls, nodded, before pausing. She signed,

_Tell her she doesn't have permission to use my name._

And I couldn't help but grin as I said obediently,

"She says that you don't have permission to use her name."

Toriel looked remarkably like she had been slapped in the face for a moment, before her eyes flashed in understanding.

"Of course, child. My apologies."

_Frisk, I'll never understand why you show me the kindness that you do, but God am I grateful for it when it creates that look._

Toriel reached forward, and I tensed. My hand gripped the knife like a lifeline, and I was sure that my fingers were white from the pressure.

They wrapped around my leg, and I hissed out slightly. Then, I felt a warmth run over me - like amber. That honey-coated caress, familiar yet alien, ran over every inch of me, and began to lull me into a deep sleep. Warmth enveloped every inch of me, but it was wrong, and thorny, and uncomfortable. Like a hug from a stranger you didn't trust.

And my eyes began to droop.

_She's drugging me. The woman is fucking drugging me._

And I thrashed.

I felt the smooth wave that had been running over me suddenly put pressure against me, my lungs constricted and my heart began to pound. My body was still as a stone, but, in my veins, a war raged.

I didn't know I had it in me.

But, a moment later, the wave retreated. I saw red. There was a flash, a glint of steel, a rush of motion - the world spun around me and that serpent sunk its fangs of magma in my leg again, but it didn't matter because Toriel was pinned against a wall with a knife at her throat.

There might have been noises in the background. I couldn't hear them, though, over my rush of rage.

"You fucking drugged me," I whispered. "You tried to fucking knock me out."

Toriel was bug-eyed. I felt hands trying to pull at my arms - they felt furry - but I noticed that I didn't feel Frisk's hands with them.

Frisk trusted me more then this goat woman.

And I felt warm.

"I'm sorry, my child,"

And there was the rage again.

"I should have warned you. The healing process often puts people into a deep sleep, especially with larger wounds. But I would never try to - to drug you."

I didn't respond.

 _It_ _would_ _be_ _easy_ , I thought.

_Just slit her throat._

_She isn't even fighting back._

_I have her at my mercy._

_Frisk might be angry at first, but she would understand._

_Kill_ _her_ , _Chara_ , voices whispered in her ear. They sounded like Mom and Dad.

_Kill the dirty monster freak._

I hesitated.

The knife pressed at her throat.

And, suddenly, I felt a warm hand on my shoulder.

I turned just enough to see Frisk over my shoulder. Her eyes were closed off, revealing nothing, but I could feel her intention in the hand on my shoulder.

_Let her go._

I pulled back.

Instantly, Toriel sucked in a breath, putting a hand on her throat. Asriel rushed to his mother's side, and I felt the world suddenly spin.

I swayed, as the venom from the snake that had sunk into my leg began to unravel my world. Every colour was too bright and the world felt too heavy, and I began to tip.

I fell.

And landed on Frisk's shoulder. Instantly, I felt Frisk hold me, already beginning to sit down. I felt my legs collapse, and I was sitting against Frisk once more, with her arms once again holding my head against her shoulder.

And I felt her hand card through my hair. I only had time to barely repress a low, satisfied growl, before I succumbed to the pain in my leg, and passed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I took a bit of a break from writing, but then I got distracted from my break because I kept thinking of things to write, so I straight up wrote this on my tablet.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed, and give me some feedback. Or ask some questions - probably about the story, but if you want to know if a potato is a vegetable or not, that's cool too - if you so desire.
> 
> -Howard R.
> 
> P.S: for all you Chasriel shippers out there who are dreadfully confused, let me try to explain Chara's behavior here.
> 
> You have to remember that, in the game, Chara is A: quite a bit younger, and B: has never been shown kindness before. In the game, it makes sense for her to bond with Asriel - but here, she's older, warier, and has someone to protect. That doesn't mean a bond can't grow between them, though - so don't flip out yet.
> 
> And no, Chara isn't evil, if you're wondering after that last section. But she is... paranoid, surrounded by creatures she doesn't understand in a world she's wary of, and vengeful. And she thinks she's just been drugged. I think it makes sense for her to lash out and, maybe, to show a bit of her darker side.


	4. Interlude: A Cracked Piece

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> S - 1 is compliant. Blue is not.

"Status report."

S - 1 responded, voice monotone,

"No physical damage, slight magical exhaustion. HP: 1/1"

The room was empty, but for the dust and broken bones littering the floor. The walls were a flat color, not blue, not green and not grey. They had the texture of plaster, appearance-wise, but they felt smooth. In the center of the room, was a figure, standing with rigid stillness and waiting for a confirmation of his status, and a report on his performance.

He was a skeleton. That much was obvious, from the eyesockets to the skeletal toes. He appeared to have no pupils, eyes black and lifeless, and looked almost more like a machine made to replicate a skeleton then a living one. 

He was also naked. His ribs were on full display, his shoulder blades sharp, and his posture rigid.

He was waiting.

"Good. As expected. My expectations were, luckily, low - so I am glad to not find them unmet. You continue to be hideously below average, and completely incapable of sustaining even the smallest bit of damage to your form without turning to dust. Your attacks cannot last and do no damage, the invincibility frames they leave are massive, and your magic reading shows that you are using very little to maintain them - so, clearly, you are so weak that you have little magic to register."

The man speaking, cloaked in shadow, snorted.

"At least you can dodge."

If the man speaking had been paying attention to the figure he was speaking to, he might have noticed a small flicker in his eyes. But, instead, he deemed him unworthy of attention, and simply left the room, seemingly expecting the skeleton to follow.

But it seemed that the skeleton, despite the man's insistence, was not focused on meeting every expectation.

The man chanted something as he left, clearly not expecting a response - and that expectation the skeleton was more then glad to meet.

Once the door closed, the skeleton stopped being S - 1, compliant, happy servant with a broken will and no pupils.

"Alright, Blue," he muttered, pupils appearing in his eyes and and a grin growing on his face. "Don't got time to stick around."

He walked to the other end of the room, and put a hand on a panel there. It had been designed so that it only could be unlocked by the magical signature of the Doctor, and so, couldn't be opened by W - 2's purple signature or S - 1's too small signature.

When Blue put his hand on the panel, the door instantly opened.

He grinned wider.

The Doctor hated smiling.

That's why S - 1 never did it.

And why Blue always did.

He stepped into the room quickly, rushing towards the table. He ignored everything else, including the massive machine in the corner and the chair in front of it, sticky and covered with dust. Blue had given up long ago trying to discern if it was natural dust or monster dust - it was impossible to tell.

He simply scooped up the three small items on the table. He grimaced when he saw one was cracked, but ignored it.

And then, he snapped his fingers. His pupils went out as he did, and he lost the smile, so that, when a blue light flashed and he was suddenly in a hallway, he was S - 1 once more.

"Do you understand?" The man cloaked in shadow croaked, as he approached a cell. He turned around, and found S - 1 standing there, staring forward with eyes black, exactly as expected.

"Yes." He responded in a monotone.

"Good." The man pressed a hand to the panel to the side of the cell, causing the bright blue bars of crackling magic to vanish. S - 1 didn't even have to be told to step in.

He may be weak, but he made up for it with perfect compliance.

A moment later, the bars reappeared, and the man walked away. It was only once the footsteps became quiet whispers in the distance, that S - 1 became Blue again.

"Man, it is _scary_ , how good you are at that." The other skeleton in the cell whispered. He was taller then Blue, and his eyesockets were slimmer. His face had the same basic composition, though - no jaw, smooth skin - err, calcium - and a smile rapidly forming on his face. He also happened to have glasses - tall, silver-rimmed and ovular.

"So, did you get them?"

"Get what, bro?" Blue asked, tone mockingly confused as he sat back, arms behind his head. "Good test results? Never."

The bespectacled skeleton scowled. In the corner, a much smaller skeleton with a normal jaw - the kind that left two holes on the side of his face - babbled in a disgruntled manner.

"Don't play dumb, _Sans_."

Blue, rather then being disgruntled by this apparent insult, simply grinned wider. 

"Why, my heart is in pieces, _Wingdings_. You and your insults have torn me so asunder, I've completely forgotten about the gift I was to give you."

'Wingdings' scowled heavier.

"Come on, Blue. Hand 'em over."

Blue rolled his eyes, but nonetheless extended his hand.

"Since you asked so nicely, Violet..."

Violet snatched up the items in Blue's hand like a lifeline. When he saw them, he grinned so widely it looked like his face was about to crack open.

"Yay! Oh, thankyouthankyouthankyou!"

"Heh. Don't mention it, bro."

In Violet's hand, sat three chess pieces - a black knight, a white bishop, and a white pawn. When he noticed the crack on the side of the black knight, though, he grimaced.

"Damn. One's cracked."

Blue shrugged.

"Can still play with 'em, can't we?"

And Violet grinned again.

"You bet we can!"

Violet rushed over to the bed in the corner, ignoring the babbling of the small skeleton next to it, and pulled out a half-used bar of chalk. He began to sketch out a grid on the ground, while Blue grabbed a collection of pieces from under the bed, and began to lay them out on the grid.

"I'm going to beat you this time, Blue."

Blue grinned a wicked, smug grin, that wouldn't be seen within twenty feet of S - 1.

"Bring it on."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmm... a subplot...
> 
> Or is it?
> 
> Thank you to everyone amazing enough to leave kudos and the one person who's commented. I'm afraid I usually don't have time to respond when I have stories to write, but if you have a question, I'll do my best to answer you.
> 
> -Howard R.


	5. Complete

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chara has a bad dream.
> 
> ...Or maybe relives a bad memory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit to Toby and all that jazz.

_ She turned from the running men, her dagger worn and shiny with blood. She finally rushed - no,  _ _ raced _ _ \- to the prone figure laying against the ground. _

_ Somewhere, deep in her stomach, something was flailing desperately at the bottom of a static ocean. _

_ "Frisk? Frisk! Frisk, oh my god, no, no, no you -" _

_ She fell to the ground - not knelt,  _ _ fell _ _ \- and held the head of the figure on the ground. Her fingers pressed against their temples and smeared blood on their cheeks, but she couldn't care less because _

_ Because it was Frisk, and she was crying and the smell of metal and oh god please stop bleeding - _

_ She began to panic. Her mask began to slip. _

_ "Oh god. Oh god, no, no, nonono, you, you - you're fine! You're fine, you're completely fine, come on Frisk, stop - oh god, oh, oh please, please stop bleeding, you -" _

_ "Chara?" _

_ Their voice was barely even a croak. Their - _

_ Their voice, that timid, quiet, impossibly beautiful voice, mangling sounds and croaky with blood and oh god please stop bleeding so much - _

_ Their adam's apple bobbed with the words, and Chara pressed their hand gently against the knife wound on their stomach. _

_ "Oh my god. No, no, no you - you can't, this isn't, this - they'll pay, those bastards, I'll fucking kill them, I'll  _ _ KILL THEM! _ _ \- Frisk, you, you have to stop bleeding, please stop, please, I -" _

_ There were tears spilling down her cheeks. _

_ She didn't notice. _

_ Her heart was in her throat and her lungs were on fire and _

_ And those eyes, those beautiful eyes, brown and warm and half-lidded and hazy and dying, oh god, no, no she wasn't dying she couldn't be STOP BLEEDING SO MUCH - _

_ "Frisk, please, I can't, I can't do this, I'm already hanging by a thread, I can't-" _

_ "Chara... it hurts..." _

_ Her hands were covered in blood, and it was smeared all over the blue and pink jumper Frisk was wearing and _

_ That jumper, the one I made for her, that she loved so much and her eyes lit up when she opened the box and she wasn't dying she was fine she - _

_ Her hands pressed against the wound, vainly trying to keep the spilling blood in Frisk's body. She wasn't even sure when she had dropped the knife - it was the first time in years that she had left it unattended and she would never do it again. _

_ "Frisk, I know, I know it hurts but you'll be fine Frisk I'll make you fine again you -" _

_ "Chara... I'm dying..." _

_ "No you aren't!" Her voice was desperate, and choked, and cracked because _

_ Because she wasn't dying, she couldn't be dying because she was Frisk she was the one who smiled at her with that soft face and those leaves had sprinkled on her hair that day and she was so beautiful - _

_ "No you aren't, you aren't dying you're fine you just - you just have a bit of a cut, is all, and it'll heal over in a week's time, you'll be fine by Saturday so we can do our homework, remember? You can't die because we still have that geometry and I have to help you and I'll never say you can't play with the other kids because they're dumb again and I'll smile and you'll smile with those leaves in your hair like when we were kids, remember? It'll be fine, you'll be fine you just have to stop bleeding and you'll get everything you want and I'll never say a bad word about you again and I'll spend every cent I get on you and we'll both eat lots of chocolate and candy just STOP BLEEDING!" _

_ Frisk didn't respond. Maybe she couldn't. _

_ "Please... please stop bleeding... you can't die, you  _ _ can't, _ _ you... you complete me..." _

_ "It hurts, Chara..." _

_ "You complete me..." She muttered again. It felt almost like a prayer for help, purely because it was exactly what she needed Frisk to know. Exactly what she needed Frisk to know when she woke up every day, that feeling that Chara had never been able to put her finger on. _

_ Frisk completed her. It was love, and it was more then love. Frisk was her restraint, and her happiness, and her sanity - and without her, Chara would simply be... _

_ Incomplete. _

_ "Please stop bleeding... please don't die..." _

* * *

I sucked in a desperate breath, eyes snapping open and hands clenching.

_ Frisk. _

_ Oh god, oh no, she's dead Frisk is dead and I couldn't do anything about it and- _

"Frisk?  _ Frisk!?" _

"Chara...?" 

It was sleepy, and muttering, and beautiful and-

_ Too close to when she was dying, too sleepy, too delirious too close to slipping away and leaving her - _

"Frisk!" I cried, turning to the sound of the voice. I was in Frisk's arms, laying in a couch, and I vaguely remembered goats and caves but

_ But none of it mattered because Frisk was here and she was alive and - _

I grabbed onto Frisk like a lifeline, burying my face into their skin. I knew it had to be uncomfortable, because my nose was pressing into her and the tear tracks on my cheeks were staining her skin but

_ But it didn't matter because she was hot and clammy and holding me and  _ _ alive _ _ - _

"Chara, What're you doing up...?"

It was a sleepy mutter, and I knew that the only reason she was talking and not signing was because she was barely awake, but...

But it didn't matter.

I burrowed my face into her tanned, clammy neck, too hot from sleeping in my embrace all night and smelling of dirt and blood.

And I felt it against my lips, and I pressed further, almost trying to taste the sensation.

_ Pulse... Pulse.... Pulse... _

It was a heartbeat. A slow, steady heartbeat.

And I pressed into her skin.

"Keep talking," I answered, voice delirious and panicked. Because I needed all my senses to be filled with nothing but Frisk, for even my subconscious to know she was alive and warm and just as beautiful as I remember.

And I could see her toned skin from my cracked open eyes, even from the glaze of tears, and I could feel the warmth of her neck and smell the dirt and flowers and something spicy that was only Frisk and taste the pulse in her veins.

But I needed to hear her voice.

And Frisk must've understood, for she paused for only the shortest moment before obeying.

_ Frisk always understood... _

"Once upon a time..." She said quietly. If I had been more conscious, I might have berated her for telling a  _ story, _ of all things, but right now just the sensation of her skin and the sound of her voice was like heaven compared to the hell that had been the sleeping world.

"Once upon a time, there was a young girl. And this girl lived in her head, because the world outside was harsh and cruel."

"But, one day, when she once again slipped into the dark landscape of her dreams, there was someone else there. Someone who looked like her, except..."

"Except better. More beautiful, and confident, and clean. She had shorter, straighter hair and paller, smoother skin. And rosy, glowing cheeks."

" 'My name is Red.' The girl in her head said. 'Will you be my friend?'"

I didn't even hear the words - just the beautiful, soothing melody of that voice. And the amber caress of sleep had already begun to drape over me again.

"Now, the girl didn't have any friends - and so, she was glad to accept. And so, every day, she would talk to Red. They became best friends, almost like siblings - and the girl learned that Red was her, but better in every way. Confident, beautiful, smart... perfect. And yet, despite that, Red was her friend - and she was so nice that she acted like the girl was better then she was, even though Red was unbeatable."

"And so, one day, the girl stopped Red, and said, 'Red, I want to thank you for being such a good friend. Name anything you want, anything at all, and I'll do my best to get it to you.'"

"And Red answered, in her confident, clear voice, so much better then the girl's own,"

"'I only want to be able to hug you when you're sad, and hold your hand when you're scared, and kiss you better when you're hurt.'"

"And so, the girl got to work trying to get Red a body."

I felt Frisk begin to card her fingers through my hair, and I didn't try to repress the low, deep purr that rose from deep in my stomach, and instead, simply let it rumble against Frisk's neck.

I didn't notice Frisk's pulse hitch slightly.

"Every hour she spent in the real world, she read. She read and read and read until she had a full library in her mind, and then read some more. Until, finally, she found a way to give Red a body."

"She need only breathe Red into her mother's forehead, and, two months later, Red would have a body to call her own."

"So, that night, the girl crept into her mother's room, and kissed her mother's forehead. She breathed out a breath, and red smoke furrowed out her mouth as Red went into her mother's head."

"A few days later, the girl's mother became very ill. Nobody knew why, but she broke into a fever, and threw up, and thrashed in her bed. Red had vanished from the girl's head, and every day, she prayed. She prayed that it would work, and Red would make it out alive."

"Weeks passed, and, for every passing day, her mother became more and more sick. Fever became sweating and clammy skin, stomachaches became swallowed knives, and throwing up food became throwing up blood."

"Until, finally, two months had passed. The whole day, the girl was on edge, until her mother began screaming. She had screamed before, but not like this - not like there was a demon in her stomach. She thrashed in her bed, and began to cough blood, and yet, she continued to scream."

"Until she finally died. The girl stared as the last blood came from her mother's mouth - and, right before her eyes, the blood droplets grew. First, they merged - then, they expanded - and, soon enough, it was a child. And yet, she continued to grow. Until she was exactly as the girl had seen her in her mind - tall, and pale, and perfect."

"And they clung to each other, Red feeling her first sensation, and the girl getting her first hug. 'Anything you name,' Red said, 'is your's.'"

"And the girl wept as she answered,"

"'I've already gotten the only thing I've ever wanted.'"

And, when you glanced down, Chara was out cold.

"Goodnight, Chara." You whisper.

"...Love you."

There was no response.

And you smiled, and let the gentle embrace of sleep envelop you again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... erm... Frisk isn't mute, then... surprise?
> 
> I intended to have a moment where this was more obviously displayed and set up as the centerpiece of a scene - preferably way later on in the story - but... erm... those plans flew out the window because I absolutely love this scene.
> 
> Erm... comment, if you would? I don't know really what to say, other then... thanks again for all the support, and have a good day!
> 
> -Howard R.


	6. Drabble: Breakfast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chara gets up and talks with Asriel.

When I woke up next, I didn’t have to stifle a gasp. There was an awful taste in my mouth, and phlegm clogging my throat, but, luckily, no nightmares.

I was almost completely sure that was because of Frisk, who was still holding me protectively even while she passively dozed.

Daylight streamed in from a window somewhere, and I blearily blinked away the last traces of amber as I slowly sat up, making sure not to disturb Frisk. 

She needed her rest even more then I did. 

She let out a pained sounding moan and wriggled slightly as I slipped out of her grasp, but, luckily, didn’t wake. I let out a small, relieved sigh, before putting my hand on the butt of my dagger, to make sure nobody had taken it off me.

Still there. Good.

I turned, ready to inspect the room we were in - presumably a living room - before freezing.

Because, moving in from the doorway and rubbing his eyes, was Asriel.

He froze when he saw me, as well, and I was glad to see just the smallest flash of hesitation in his eyes before he opened his mouth. My hand continued to rest on the butt of my hidden dagger, just in case.

Better a paranoid me then a dead me.

“Oh. Uh, hey. You’re up.”

I sneered slightly. “Observant as always, Dreemurr.”

He simply smiled, though it had the smallest hint of strain at the edges. I almost wanted to grin triumphantly.

“I try.”

We stared at each other silently for a moment, my hand still discretely fingering my dagger. He averted his eyes and shifted slightly, looking oddly out of place in his own house.

“Uhm, this is our house. Well, our old house - we haven’t lived here in quite a while, actually, but we decided to set up shop here until you were all healed up.”

And that was when I remembered that my leg was supposed to be injured. I glanced down, surprised, and he laughed a bright, cheery laugh.

The strain was gone. I nearly scowled.

“Yeah, works quickly, doesn’t it? You had to be carried here yesterday, with how bad the injury was - even healed, it was impossible for you to walk on your own - but by now, you should just be a little sore. In a week or so, even that should clear up.”

I looked up from my once-broken leg, and just barely managed to remember my common courtesy.

“Thank you.”

“Oh, it’s no trouble.” Asriel assured me, looking laid-back. When he wasn’t energetic, I found that his cheer was a bit less grating.

“Would you, uh, like some breakfast? I can shamble something together, I’m sure, and you ought to be eating as much as you can.”

Huh. That sounded almost like something Frisk would say.

“No, thank you. ...Where are we? I mean, like - I just fell in a cave.”

Asriel smiled slightly.

“Oh yeah, guess you wouldn’t know. Uh, welcome to the underground!”

He spread his arms like a TV show host. I nearly smiled.

“Monsters have lived here for around fifty years. The whole cavern has been explored and filled at this point. This is just the entrance - a place called the Ruins. Me, Mom and Dad used to live here, when I was just a little kid, but we moved shop up to the capital a while ago.”

I nodded. Frisk turned over in her sleep and muttered something.

Asriel turned, too, and smiled. Instantly, my annoyance with him returned when I noticed him smiling like that at  _ my _ sister.

“Yeah, she’s a good one, your sister. Nearly carried you all the way here, never even complained about it.”

“Rather hard to complain when your mute.” I reminded him. He blushed.

“Well, yeah, but Doctor Gaster still finds a way to complain about his latest experiments while his mouth is full, so I assumed Frisk would find a way to complain, too. But she just… did it, no complaints. Like it was just something that had to be done.”

“... _ Frisk?” _

He probably didn’t notice that my voice was getting a bit dark.

“...Uh, yeah? That’s her name, right? She never tried to correct me, anyway.”

“You two are on a  _ first-name basis?” _

“...I guess? I mean, we talked quite a bit after you passed out - well, I talked, Frisk usually just nodded and found ways to ask questions to keep me rambling, heh - so I know her pretty well. At least, as well as you  _ can _ know a person you met yesterday.”

And, suddenly, his eyes sharpened upon me. The way he lost any innocence in a fraction of a second, his posture turning rigid and his pupils expanding, managed to suddenly remind me that I was talking to a  _ monster _ \- one who probably had more then a bit of predator blood in him.

“She really cares about you, y’know. Even though she can’t talk, she somehow couldn’t shut up about you.”

I didn’t know why his tone was suddenly so insistent, so questioning and pressing, or why his eyes had turned into razor-fine points daggering into me in a split-second. Like he was interrogating me.

No matter the reason, though, I felt compelled to answer him.

“Well, we  _ are _ sisters.” I reminded him.

He smiled. His pupils shrunk again, his posture slouched slightly, and his tone was light and cheery once more when he answered,

“Yeah. I would have really liked to have a sibling, but… y’know. Wasn’t exactly my choice, eh?”

He chuckled easily. I could almost convince myself that I had imagined the change in character.

“You sure you don’t want that breakfast? Really, it’s no trouble - I’m always looking for criticism.”

I hesitated.

“...Go ahead and make some extra. Frisk’ll probably want some when she gets up, and… and she'll probably force me to take some anyway.”

Asriel grinned a bright, cheery grin.

“Awesome. Any preferences?”

“Meat.” I answered instantly. “Lots of meat.”

“Sausage and bacon with pancakes it is!”

I snorted an ugly, loud snort. I froze up completely when I realized what had just slipped out of my mouth, but Asriel didn’t even seem to notice as he trotted off to the kitchen. I heard humming as he methodically began to prepare breakfast.

_ That’s the first time in a while I’ve let my emotions get away from me. _

I tried to ignore the thought, and the creeping sense of foreboding as I sat down at the table and waited.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, umm, a few things.
> 
> First - Asriel is rather obviously less naive and more adult then he is in the actual game. He's got the responsibility of being the king on his shoulders, so I imagine him still being cheerful and innocent most of the time but showing moments of maturity when the time comes.
> 
> And second, and more important: I think you guys are taking the story from last time too literally. It was just an impromptu thing that Frisk made up - it was specifically established in the first chapter that their parents are alive.
> 
> Though that doesn't mean that that story is completely irrelevant. Keep it in the back of your mind, if you would. And thanks again for reading my (kinda bad) stories.
> 
> Filled with COFFEE,
> 
> -Howard R.


	7. Chapter 7

It is noteworthy - in hindsight, very noteworthy - that I did not intend to fall into a routine as quick as I did.

The only problem was, me and Frisk had never really  _ had _ a routine, and suddenly getting one made it very,  _ very _ easy to slip into that groove in a very short period of time.

We slept. We woke up. Asriel cooked us breakfast, or maybe Toriel if she was awake early enough. We read some books, or wandered around the house, or did some other trivial thing to occupy ourselves. Went to sleep. Repeat.

It made a very nice, neat little loop

By a week in, I was starting to grow gradually less wary. I was never stupid enough to lower my guard  _ completely, _ of course, unless it was just me and Frisk in the house, but I started to…

I hate to use the word  _ relax. _ I  _ didn’t _ relax. I  _ never _ relax.

But I did… unravel, a bit. Come to accept the Dreemurr’s constant presence. Stuff like that.

By the end of the first week, I was able to be in the same room as Asriel without having a taut spine the whole time. It made for terrible reading posture, and honestly, I was almost glad to have that little step taken.

But I never relaxed around Toriel.

As more and more time passed and I saw the woman increasingly often, I just grew  _ more _ weary. Her motherly instincts never jelled with me. She just acted too…

I don’t know. But there was something about her that never sat quite right with me.

My eyes never left hers, when we were in the same room. In the first week, at least.

And then the first month passed.

I began to almost  _ like _ the place. Which was, in hindsight, more then a little worrying. Especially since  _ my time healing was up. _

But I could tell that Frisk didn’t want to leave, and I had gathered from the books I had read that there was no known way  _ to _ leave. At least, not the entire underground.

At least here, we were…

My mind rebelled against the word  _ safe. _ I was  _ never _ safe -  _ Frisk _ was never safe. I couldn’t let my guard down, no matter what.

But, at least here, we had a constant intake of food and drink. At least here, we had a  _ chance _ of surviving.

It took two months for me to eat a meal Asriel cooked without checking it for poison. When I realized what I had done, I froze up completely, the taste of scrambled eggs still in my mouth.

Asriel didn’t even seem to notice.

Frisk did, though. And she sent me the most  _ blinding _ smile I had ever seen.

I ate the rest of the meal, unsure what exactly I was feeling.

I didn’t make that mistake again. I resolved to check  _ every. Time. _

I had grown too complacent.

I needed to keep us  _ safe. _

My resolve didn’t crack. I never failed to check again.

And, again, Asriel seemed oblivious to it all. Leaning back in content, his own plate completely clean, and simply waiting patiently, letting the world go by.

I would decide, later, that these were the moments when…

Not when I  _ liked _ Asriel most - I never  _ liked _ Asriel. But those  _ were _ the moments I found him… least annoying. Sitting there, leaned back, seeming perfectly content with everything.

And, occasionally, I would feel this kind of… yearning, that I couldn’t understand. Like a pull on my stomach, that made me want to look away from the quiet child. When my eyes found him, on those early, sun-soaked mornings. Found those eyes, normally so wide and glittering, closed with content. Found that relaxed posture, completely at ease with the world.

Like there was no chance anything would hurt him.

It took a visit to Snowdin for something important to hit me.

* * *

It was a quiet day. Me and Frisk were sitting in the living room, with Asriel and Toriel nearby.

I never did quite get used to Toriel. In those early days, I would have a deep, bubbling fear and resentment in my gut, whenever she was in the same room.

Even now, over a month in to our stay, I wouldn’t be in the same room as her without Frisk in my line of sight and Asriel somewhere nearby. My spine was taut with tension, and my eyes never really found the book in my hands, instead focused on my nearby twin sister putting together a puzzle.

Asriel had blinked suddenly, from where he had been sitting nearby. Before, he had had that same perfectly relaxed posture that I never wanted to look at. Legs folded, head back, eyes closed. 

Letting the world roll by.

But he had sat up, then, at a seemingly random moment - looking like he had just realized something.

“Hey-” he said, causing everyone who wasn’t already looking at him (read: everyone but me) to glance over. “You two haven’t seen any place outside the ruins, have you?”

Me and Frisk glanced at each other, and I read in her eyes the wish. The pleading.

_ Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go. _

She wanted to get out of the house. And she  _ knew _ that I didn’t.

“No.” I said, voice flat. “We haven’t.”

Frisk stared at me. I didn’t break eye contact, even when I spoke.

I refused to lose this battle.

“We should go someplace - Snowdin, maybe. We have some jackets laying around someplace, keep you nice and warm - or maybe a sweater, if that’s more your thing.” Asriel said, perfectly composed but growing a little bit excited as his sentence wore on.

Once again, it struck me how his eagerness had…

Not  _ grown _ on me, but… become less annoying, at least. And, excluding that first day when he realized we were both humans, he had never quite been  _ too _ eager. He seemed a laid-back enough person.

Or, uh - monster, rather.

Frisk still stared at me, and finally resorted to her biggest, most pleading pair of puppy dog eyes.

And -  _ shit. _

I melted.

“Fine.” I ground out. Frisk gave me her most beaming, triumphant smile, and I sneered back.

Asriel grinned at me too. I glanced over at it - at the way those tiny, barely noticeable fangs poked out from his top lip. Like tiny teeth.

It was disgusting. A perfect reminder that he was a  _ monster. _

And yet, I didn’t feel quite as disgusted as I should have.

“Great!” The prince chirped, clapping his furry paws together. “Jacket or sweater, Chara?”

I suddenly felt my world tilt a little, as it struck me that me and Asriel  _ were _ on a first-name basis. And that the insult that had been on the tip of my tongue had no right to come out, piercing and thorny.

It felt awful, swallowing it back.

But I managed it.

“Jacket.” I said shortly. Frisk gave me a meaningful look.

It was only because I was in a particularly spiteful mood that I simply signed,

_ Say it yourself. _

Frisk gave me a flat glare, knowing I would cave eventually. I sneered slightly, but obliged.

“Frisk is more of a sweater girl, though.”

Asriel grinned his brightest grin at us.

“Great! Snowdin ahoy!” He chanted, as he raced to the closet to get us our winter wear.

Frisk giggled.

I decided, then and there, that Asriel and Frisk were to never corroborate on anything. Ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the month long break. But I'm back and happier then ever.
> 
> I planned to have the snowdin visit in this chapter, what with that earlier section referring to it so blatantly - and I probably will merge this chapter and the next at some point - but this little bit already took too long to get published and I decided I needed to separate them. I promise, though, that the visit in question should be coming out some time this week at the very latest. More likely, it'll come out tomorrow. I've been on a real big Undertale kick recently.
> 
> Hope the chapter is good enough to make up for the wait. It's mostly settup, really - and who out there can guess what it's settup for? Curious to see how many people can already see the character revelations and development coming - but we needed a lot of settup here if we really wanna get into the meat of this fic sometime soon. And I sure as hell do.
> 
> Filled with COFFEE,
> 
> -Howard R.


	8. Never Safe

Snowdin, I decided quickly, was a very fitting title.

The place was  _ covered _ in snow. And when I say covered, I mean  _ covered. _ Every surface was draped in the substance. Roofs, windowsills, the cracks between bricks. The single body of water I spotted was completely frozen over, and every monster we spotted was either covered in fur or had some kind of blubber or scales to keep themselves insulated.

It was the strangest group of monsters yet.

And the largest, too.

My hand never left my dagger, hidden just below my jacket, the entire time that we walked.

Asriel acted as our makeshift tour guide. He led us around the place, showing us all the attractions - if you can call them that. An inn, a shop which he proudly proclaimed sold the best pastries in the entire underground (“though you shouldn’t mention that to Muffet,” he had added hastily), the library - which was apparently the only one in the entire underground,  _ and _ the place they made all the newspapers-

(“The sign is misspelled.” I said flatly, glaring up at the building and wondering just how good a library could be if it couldn’t spell its  _ name _ right.

“Oh, yeah.” Asriel said, a relaxed smile on his face. “Nobody knows who’s to blame for that one, and everyone’s too lazy to fix it.”

I raised an eyebrow at him. “Really? Not a  _ single _ person is willing to fix that sign?”

“Well, feel free to do it yourself, if it bothers you so much.” Asriel answered. “I’m sure nobody would complain.”

I filed the suggestion away for later.)

And, to top it all off, they had a nice bar and grill. The instant I saw it, the entire day suddenly brightened a touch.

“Do they sell burgers? Tell me they sell burgers.” I said instantly, not even trying to clamp down on the pleading in my voice.

Asriel grinned.

“They sell burgers.”

“Yes!” I exclaimed breathily, throwing my hands up and spinning. Frisk giggled.

Asriel’s grin widened further.

And it was then, really, that I noticed what was wrong.

His grin was suddenly  _ real. _

And it struck me, that it hadn’t been real all day. That it had been…  _ strained, _ for some reason. The corners didn’t quite tilt right, and his eyes had been a touch too flat.

_ This _ grin, though, was finally real. And I felt an equally real, equally bright grin tug at my own lips, completely against my will.

It never even occurred to me to try and squash it.

* * *

You couldn’t have been happier.

This month, honestly, had probably been the best in your whole life.

Okay, sure, Chara wasn’t as happy as she could’ve been. And that was awful - it  _ really _ was. But…

But you got a good, healthy breakfast every morning. But you always had something to do. But you had a nice, comfortable couch to sleep on, and you always went to sleep with Chara in your arms.

And, no matter how jaded she was, you were  _ convinced _ Chara would warm up to this place eventually.

And here was your proof. Because Chara was practically  _ beaming, _ eyes wide and sparkling, jacket loose and flowing around her like a dress.

You had no illusions, of course. This momentary lapse in wariness, you were convinced, was only because even Chara was incapable of keeping her guard up  _ constantly. _ You were also convinced that it never would’ve happened if Toriel was going with them on this little trip.

And you knew that the moment Chara snapped out of it, she would hate herself for letting her guard down.

But you couldn’t bring yourself to be worried.

And plus…

You couldn’t help but notice that the smile wasn’t directed at  _ you. _ That it didn’t arrive because of something you had done, or even, really, because of the news of some good, greasy food.

No…

She had smiled like that only when  _ Asriel _ had smiled.

You felt a grin, sharp and teasing and  _ knowing, _ stretch your lips.

Oh, Chara would  _ never _ live this one down.

You were going to tease her about having a crush for the rest of time.

* * *

“Bur-gers! Bur-gers! Bur-gers!” I chanted, sweeping into the diner. There was something bubbling happily in my gut - a kind of sensation I hadn’t felt in a long,  _ long _ time.

Asriel joined the chant, clapping along. Frisk’s claps soon joined.

And then, an unknown voice joined.

“Bur-gers! Bur-gers! Bur-gers!”

I didn’t even spare a moment to glance at the grinning skeleton as he joined, clapping his perfectly polished white hands along with the rhythm. I simply continued to spin, hands high, chanting. Like I was praying.

Soon enough, the entire diner was chanting. Some of them with wide grins, some with contempt, only joining because  _ everyone _ was, and some with begrudging amusement.

I was swept away by the ecstasy.

And, for the first time - without even realizing what I was doing - I let my guard down.

The lights glittered down on me, a mellow orange spilling out and seeming to sparkle on the polished floors. Frisk was grinning, her warm brown eyes glittering happily at me. The faces farther away  blurred together with the tables and booths.

The artificial wind swept around me, created only by my gradually quickening spin. My jacket, dark brown leather, swept with it.

And Asriel’s lime green eyes were completely, totally unstrained for the first time all day - open and deep as pools of algae-filled sea water.

I laughed, throat unlocking and jaw loose. Hands high.

I was…

I just  _ was. _

I had nothing to protect. No obligations to fulfill. Nothing to be wary of.

I was safe.

And I could be  _ happy. _

And that was when my eye caught the glittering, dull steel of my dagger, just out of my line of sight.

…

_ What the hell was I doing? _

The world crashed into place again, harsh and cutting and heavy as sin. Weight fell on my shoulders.

Everything snapped back into place.

I skidded to a halt, smile vanishing. The happy faces of the crowd suddenly  _ leering, _ grins too wide, eyes too big.

They were all so _big,_ _too_ big, so much taller than I was-

I was so  _ small, _ I couldn’t do  _ anything, _

I had let my guard down.

I was  _ never _ safe.

_ I was  _ _ NEVER _ _ safe. _

The words reverberated in my skull, finally pulling together my unraveling mind and knotting it cleanly. Never to be loose and free again.

I was  _ never. Safe. _

My hand rested on my dagger again, as the people turned away and back to their meals, and the light music became, once again, the largest source of sound.

I willed myself to be calm again.

* * *

Chara’s eyes flattened, once again harsh and cutting as daggers. The happiness, the ecstasy, the loose, flowing emotion - all clamped down again behind walls of perfectly polished steel.

You knew that her guard had just gone up again.

...You resolved to see that guard  _ gone. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God dammit.
> 
> I say that both for the sake of our little muffins, and also because I had INTENDED to write the entire Snowdin trip and publish it *tomorrow*. But instead, I wrote this down in record time, and that felt like a really good place to end it...
> 
> I haven't even gotten to the point I had in mind when I wrote this scene! That chant and the Sans cameo was completely impromptu, I wrote this purely for a scene that hasn't even come up yet.
> 
> Also Chasriel. Not something I intended, but it fit really well with what I DO intend...
> 
> This chapter slipped away from me on so many levels, and I kind of love it.
> 
> Filled with COFFEE,
> 
> -Howard R.


End file.
